


Nights At Home, Nights Alone

by GlitterGluwu



Series: Assorted Minifics [9]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blow Jobs, Breast Fucking, Breasts, Bullying, Car Sex, Emetophilia, Exhibitionism, Large Breasts, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Injuries, Multi, Painkillers, Sexual Harassment, Step-Sibling Incest, Teacher-Student Relationship, Teasing, Trans Male Character, Virginity Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26268721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterGluwu/pseuds/GlitterGluwu
Summary: Even more ficlets relating to Fire Emblem: Three Houses!Chapter 1: Dimitri/Edelgard, rated M, teasing/getting caught (?)Chapter 2: Mercedes/Felix, rated M, Boobs??Chapter 3: Leonie/Marianne, rated M, MORE BOOBSChapter 4: Ferdinand/Manuela, rated E, titjobs and virginityChapter 5: Dimitri/Edelgard, rated E, emetophiliaChapter 6: Manuela/Edelgard, rated M, EVEN MORE BOOBS??!?!?!?!?Chapter 7: Dimitri/Edelgard, rated T, animal transformationChapter 8: Dimitri/Edelgard, rated M, A/B/O and heatChapter 9: Hilda/Edelgard, rated M, sexual bullyingChapter 10: Dorothea/Edelgard (vague implications of Black Eagles Polycule), rated E, exhibitionism/car sex
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Edelgard von Hresvelg, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Mercedes von Martritz, Ferdinand von Aegir/Manuela Casagranda, Hilda Valentine Goneril/Edelgard von Hresvelg, Marianne von Edmund/Leonie Pinelli
Series: Assorted Minifics [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618864
Comments: 13
Kudos: 66





	1. Dimigard

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say!!! It's like I'm an addict!!!! There's just so many combinations, my dude!!!!!! That said, of course I went to an old reliable source with this first Dimigard. I just like them so much, man....
> 
> I also just straight-up didn't know what to tag these first couple, lmao. Can I just say it's a bunch of self-indulgence? Because it is.

No matter how Dimitri attempted to turn his focus away, he found his eyes drawn to Edelgard’s cunt no matter what.

Technically, she was clothed. It just so happened that she’d  _ started _ propped almost upright against the arm of the couch and over the course of the last hour, she had slipped down - and down - and  _ down _ so that only her head was resting on the arm and her shorts had ridden a long ways up. Her labia were parted around the center that held her shorts together, which Dimitri could clearly see because her legs were bent at the knee and spread. Her feet rested against his thigh and his hip such that anytime she closed or opened her legs, he was  _ reminded. _

Needless to say, he was glad his laptop was obscuring the view of the tent he was pitching… and likely serving as the only thing stopping Edelgard from probing forward with her toes.

He heard his father’s footsteps approach, and Edelgard closed her legs again; Lambert ruffled his hair, then rounded the corner of the couch to dip down and kiss Edelgard’s forehead. “We’ll see you two tonight. Did you ever settle on any plans?”

Edelgard shrugged. “Just a night at home, I think. Right, Dimitri?”

Dimitri nodded, not trusting his voice after so much teasing. Lambert, for his part, didn’t seem terribly surprised; a “night at home” had become his and Edelgard’s preferred way to spend time together.

“Well, if you change your minds, Patricia’s car is in the garage. And Edelgard -”

“Hm?”

“Proper young ladies cover up a little better before leaving the house,” Lambert called over his shoulder as he departed, the jingle of keys accompanying him.

Dimitri could all but  _ hear _ the blush in Edelgard’s voice. “Y-yes, Papa.”

He listened intently as his father shuffled about to leave; he called his goodbyes as he finally wrenched the front door open and Dimitri almost sighed with relief, waiting for the sound of his father’s car in the driveway, waiting for the crackling of gravel -

And when he decided he’d waited long enough, he scrambled to shut his laptop, get it out of the way, and spring in between Edelgard’s legs.

“I thought he’d never leave,” he moaned, mouthing eagerly along Edelgard’s bare collarbone, slipping her spaghetti straps from her shoulders and holding them for a moment as he licked, sucked, and positively abused her neck. She was so slender beneath his hands, so touchable - her muttered reminder not to leave marks only made him whine all the more, wriggle one arm beneath her and hold her closer -

“Do you think Papa knows?” Edelgard asked contemplatively, breathing heavily outward as he cupped one petite breast in his hand. Dimitri deflated around a groan.

“He doesn’t, El, I promise.”

“Dimitri, I can say - beyond a shadow of a doubt - s-stop trying to distract me,” Edelgard faltered, her voice pitching upward as he kissed her neck again, grinding down between her legs, letting her  _ feel _ his arousal. “I’m telling you that it’s your erection speaking, not your  _ brain.” _

He paused, sighing into her skin, and just laid against her for a moment, thinking. He wriggled upward to kiss her cheek. “I apologize, El. You have my attention.”

“Thank you,” she tittered, lightly kissing him back. “You remember, don’t you? He used to try to tell me to cover up around you… Now he just tells me to be proper in public.”

“I’m fairly certain Patty gave him a talking-to about that. And why wouldn’t she? You have a right to dress comfortably in your own home.”

Her brow furrowed, her lips pursed - but she blushed, too, and Dimitri could tell her thoughts were at war inside her mind. “We should go out next time they have a date,” she decided, kissing him again. “He’s going to figure us out if we keep staying in to fool around.”

“I think you only say that because  _ your _ parents know how naughty you are,” Dimitri rumbled, nipping at her cheek, reveling in the little squeal he drew from her. “I cultivate a level of trust with mine. Father wouldn’t assume I’m doing anything.”

“Is this dirty talk? From  _ you?” _ Edelgard teased, and finally,  _ finally, _ she wrapped her arms around him, spreading her legs, inviting him in. “Next you’ll be calling me a… a  _ vixen,  _ or something.”

“I very well should, after that display,” Dimitri responded in kind, finding her breast again, thumbing at her nipple through her shirt. “You can be so cruel sometimes, El.”

“Oh, I do apologize,” she hummed, rocking forward, gasping sweetly when his clothed length slid along her slit. “I suppose it falls on me to make it up to you, then.”


	2. Mercelix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for the use of "cunt" in reference to Felix's parts here!
> 
> I love this rarepair. Like, it's just so cute that Mercie's all Oneesan at him. I have a type, yeah. Anyway if you think this is unlikely, Mercedes does have a line in-game about accidentally leaving her room having forgotten to get dressed so...... Basically this is inspired by that lmao

Mercedes was becoming much too comfortable around him.

Unzipping her dress after Sylvain and Dimitri’s wedding was… fine. Felix didn’t understand why she couldn’t just ask Annette to do it, but it was  _ fine. _

So was sharing a room with the pair of them. He might not have been very pressed for cash after his father’s passing, but he understood it was much more cost effective for them. That was all fine.

But Mercedes grew even more comfortable around him, to the point where her roommate and his best friend didn’t even need to be in the equation. It was uncomfortable enough when he discovered that the shopping trip she had invited him on was designated just for the two of them, but it was all the worse to be waiting around in her living room, wondering when Annette would be arriving back, when she elected to go about her housework in  _ just _ her bra.

A rather poorly fitted one, at that.

“Oh! Felix,” Mercedes startled, and when he turned to face her, he thought he knew  _ why - _ he only needed to see a little too much skin in the periphery of his vision to register that she likely hadn’t realized he was in the house at all. “You’re so quiet!”

He swallowed and averted his gaze. He’d hardly ever seen Mercedes in anything more revealing than an evening gown, and even that hadn’t been particularly low-cut; he could imagine well enough that she was dreadfully embarrassed. “Annette said I could let myself in. I should’ve called out to you.”

“Oh, that’s perfectly alright. You just gave me a start,” Mercedes assured him, sounding a little breathier but otherwise unbothered. “I’m just planning on throwing in a load of laundry before I go out - though I’m happy to prepare you a snack, if you’d like!”

Despite the discomfort of the encounter, that, at least, tugged Felix’s lips into a smirk. “Need I remind you, I’m  _ not _ your baby brother.”

“Yes, I know,” Mercedes giggled. She patted his shoulder, and he turned his head on reflex, breathtaken for a moment at the expanse of skin he saw as he did. The bra must have been old or poorly fitted or  _ something _ because her pale, smooth skin spilled out over the cups. She had stretch marks branching from the dark line of her cleavage, pretty blue veins that ran under her skin like little rivers winding their way down a mountain. One areola was visible as a brownish crescent of dimpled skin, the other as more of a half moon, a darker, tantalizing hint of nipple teasing against the solid black of her bra.

She turned away, humming to herself - one of Annette’s songs that both of them knew by heart - and Felix was left there, wide-eyed and hot between his thighs.

He sank heavily into their couch, willing Annette to show up soon,  _ very _ soon, because this - this - implicit  _ trust _ was unbearable. Had she really gone so far down the brother-zone rabbit hole that she couldn’t see that leaving her top half all but exposed in front of him was a  _ poor choice? _

Perhaps he’d have to give her another talking-to. A real one, this time.

He could hear her closing the washing machine door as he stood, continually humming to herself as he met her in the kitchen, feeling a sour taste in his mouth and an unbearable heat in his groin.

“Oh! Did you want a snack after all?” she brightened, turning quickly enough to set her breasts jiggling. “It’s not too late!”

Felix’s face burned. “Mercedes, you may view me in a less than desirable light, but I am no less a man. You should keep that in mind when we’re alone.”

Mercedes faltered, tilting her head. “Less than desirable? Felix, I adore you, why would you -”

“That isn’t what I meant,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “What I mean is… you may not view me as a romantic prospect, but you can’t assume that I feel the same. I have told you no shortage of times that -”

Mercedes’s expression was falling into one of sympathy, which seemed misplaced. Felix trailed off, wondering as she put down her keys, her shopping bag -

His face grew even hotter. “Mercedes, were you going to go out wearing that?!” he demanded.

“Hm?” she murmured, seeming half-startled, glancing down at herself with a distracted light in her eyes. “Well, it doesn’t fit so well, but it  _ is _ laundry day so - oh, my  _ blouse!” _ she exclaimed, crossing her arms over her chest and blooming a violent red color all the way down to her cleavage. “Felix, you - you of all people should have  _ said!” _

“How was I supposed to know you didn’t - I thought you meant to - get  _ dressed!” _ he stammered, stumbling back into the living room as Mercedes ran away into her own room. His mouth felt too wet, his face too hot, his cunt too wet  _ and _ hot -

“Hi, Felix! Sorry to keep you waiting,” Annette announced herself, throwing the door open and tripping over herself as she crossed the threshold, slowing to a stop as she saw him. “Whaaaat happened,” she asked in a low voice.

Schooling his expression was about as easy as it ever was for him. “Just forget it,” he grumbled, grabbing her arm and dragging her, protesting, toward the safety of her room.


	3. LeoMari

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leonie and Marianne were a duo that I had not yet written for, so I was excited to learn that, not only are they an existing ship, but they're CUTE AS HELL. Fuckin horse girls, man. They should kiss a lot.
> 
> As far as my weird goal to minific Every student in FE3H, this checks two more off the list!!! As far as I can recall, that means that the following still remain:  
> Raphael  
> Lysithea  
> Ingrid  
> Ashe, Ignatz, and Bernadetta (all dubiously counted based on how you interpret [this one](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24920821/chapters/60995020))
> 
> So. Though I don't NORMALLY accept requests.... I will say that I'll willingly take Suggestions for who I should pair those remainders with.

Leonie had the sense, despite having been dubiously conscious at the time, that neither herself nor Marianne had been particularly preoccupied with her state of undress when she was rushed into the medical tent after a massive burn to her front and a tumble off of her horse.

Yeah, that changed. No, Leonie still didn’t care! But Marianne?

The first thought in her head as she became steadily more conscious was of how similar Marianne seemed to the version of her that Leonie knew five years prior. She shuffled around her tent, finding things to organize - well,  _ “organize” _ \- and purposefully kept her gaze trained away not just from Leonie’s eyes, but from the rest of her, too.

Eye-to-eye contact was still far from Marianne’s forte, and Leonie knew that well enough. But eye-to-neck contact? Eye-to-shoulder contact? Even eye-to-knees contact, on a bad day? She’d at least improved at that much.

“Hey,” she called, and Marianne startled, turning to the ground about six feet away from Leonie and releasing a quiet, inquisitive sound. “I’m no expert,” Leonie mumbled, surprised at the weakness in her own voice - perhaps that concoction was still working its buzzy, painkilling magic on her - “but aren’t you supposed to be monitoring me, or something?”

That got her attention; eye-to-burn contact was initiated. “Are you feeling unwell?” she said, stepping closer at last. 

“Nah, it’s just you seem to be…” She lifted her hand to make a vague gesture, grunting with the effort. Okay,  _ definitely _ still buzzed. “Not really sticking close like Mercedes does.”

“I’m sorry,” Marianne said automatically. Leonie was shaking her head before she could even continue.

“C’mon, none of that. What’s up? Did I scare you when I was loopy?”

And here came something new: eye-to-breast contact.

Marianne wasn’t the type to do anything particularly quickly, and as slow as Leonie’s brain was still operating, she knew she wasn’t imagining that much. She flexed one pec as much on reflex as Marianne might have apologized, and Marianne blushed and looked away, murmuring one such apology.

“I already said none of those,” Leonie laughed, dissolving into a grunt at the pain alighting in her abdomen. “No hurt in looking. It’s a body part, you’re a healer. Isn’t it, you know, part of the job?”

One reluctant step away, Marianne still keeping her eyes trained to the side and down. “Not the way I do it,” she whispered. Leonie raised her eyebrows.

“So you like them? Don’t be ashamed of that, it’s a compliment!”

“I shouldn’t…”

“Hey, do you wanna touch ‘em?” Leonie pressed on, driven by buzz and heart-racing and - well, Marianne was  _ cute. _ Especially when the question itself made her squeak, cover her mouth, and finally,  _ finally _ initiate that eye-to-eye contact.

Marianne paused. “I couldn’t.”

“Sure you could! I’m telling you that you can.”

She shook her head. “You’re - y-you’re not in your right mind.”

“Maybe not,” Leonie reasoned, alternately flexing either pec and watching Marianne’s eyes follow the movement. “But I know you’re cute even when I’m not loopy.”

Marianne’s covering of her face was inching its way upward, as if she wanted to cover her eyes as much as her mouth - Leonie found she couldn’t blame her, with how easily she was reading her  _ based _ on that eye contact - but she did inch closer. She exchanged a glance with Leonie before pressing her eyes closed, prying a hand away from her face, and reaching.

Leonie met her halfway, guiding her wrist and fighting down a giggle when Marianne squeaked again on contact, her fingertips flexing on instinct, unintentionally squeezing. It didn’t give Leonie much, but it was worth it - even when Marianne abruptly pulled her hand away, turned one hundred and eighty degrees, and screamed into her palms.

“I-I have to go!” Marianne blurted, half-smothered, and Leonie had never  _ seen _ her move so fast when she left the tent.

Painful as it was, she couldn’t help but laugh. “This is  _ your _ tent,” she called after her, to no avail.

Shame. Mercedes would likely be coming next, and she was a fine healer, but not nearly so cute.


	4. Ferduela

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't read Ferdinand and Manuela's ending where she becomes the prime minister and he becomes her devoted househusband, I wholly recommend that you do and then come back here to gush with me about it. I fukin LOVE THEM

“You’re quiet.”

Ferdinand inhaled. “Is… Is that so!”

The head of his -  _ length - _ reappeared, a flushed, wet little pearl nestled just at the point of Manuela’s cleavage. She rested her elbow on his thigh and sighed, and disappointed as he was at the loss of pressure, Ferdinand couldn’t tear his eyes from how her -  _ natural gifts - _ seemed to stretch with her movement, grounded between her chest and his skin. 

“I knew it,” Manuela sighed, looking put-upon. “The moment you saw me in the buff, all your poetry about your  _ Princess _ and whatnot evaporated into midair.”

“Pardon?”

“Piece of advice, Ferdinand,” Manuela continued, straightening, and he forced down a whine at the separation of their skin. Her breasts were still lovely, however, sprawling things unshaped by her normal wear, resting heavily against her ribcage as they drooped to either side. The very sight of them flooded his mind with a myriad of ideas as to what he might do with them, if only he could force the words from his mouth. “It’s a little  _ too _ telling if your compliments drop off the moment you get what you want from me.”

It took a moment for him to process the implication, overwhelmed as his mind was. “Manuela! I can assure you, the assumption you are making is far from correct!”

“Is it, now?” Manuela said tiredly. “Then, would you care to explain why you seem to have been struck dumb by the sight of my aging body?”

Ferdinand gaped for a moment. “Because… I have?” Manuela sighed again and he rushed to correct himself; “Because your image has been the - the very  _ embodiment _ of my sexuality since I was very small!” he blurted, “Is it not natural that I would be overwhelmed? Surely it is not so typical that one would be deflowered by their idol!”

Manuela raised her eyebrows, apparently stuck between shock, flattery and amusement. At long last, she spoke. “You didn’t tell me I was your first, Ferdinand,” she purred, settling back between his thighs.

“I apologize for misleading you!”

“Not at all. It’s natural to be nervous,” she went on. She leaned forward, engulfing his length in the soft, pillowy flesh of her breasts once again; he gasped and bucked forward, blinded for a moment at the brush of silken-soft skin against his most sensitive of parts, and she laughed throatily. “I’m afraid  _ I _ should apologize for assuming the worst.”

“N-no trouble.”

“Tell me,” she murmured, cupping her breasts in either palm, pressing in on his cock in a newly familiar way, “What did you mean in saying that I’m - what did you call it? The embodiment of your sexuality?”

His face grew even hotter. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, showing the faint smear of her glittering eyeshadow, and overwhelmed as he was, he couldn’t pull his gaze from her. “I mean that,” he huffed, distracted, as he’d been before, by the slow drag of her breasts over his cock, “Th-that you were the first person who… I ever f-fantasized about.”

“What, while masturbating?”

He couldn’t stand to speak. He squeezed his eyes closed and nodded.

“How sweet,” she hummed, seeming at once to quicken her pace. He opened his eyes, seeing how his precum caught on her skin and bubbled up between her cleavage as she plunged down and pulled up. “Not only did I awaken your passion for swordplay, I… Well, I got you into  _ swordplay,” _ she laughed. “I’ll admit, it’s a nice way to stroke my ego.”

He drew in a high, belabored breath. It took all the concentration he had not to loose himself on her.

“Tell me, Ferdie, when did this first happen? Have you been fantasizing about me since?”

The nickname introduced a whole new struggle to the equation - he flushed ever harder, twitched ever more perceptibly. “I w-was - eleven? And yes,” he admitted.

“And you’re eighteen?” He nodded. “Well then, it seems even more of a pity that you’re too overwhelmed to speak, now.”

“How so?”

She drew to a stop in much the same way she had earlier, pressing down, letting just the head of his length come into view between her breasts, pulsing with heat and smeared with clear fluid. “Well, there’s seven years’ worth of fantasies in that cute little head of yours. It only seems appropriate to act a few out - if only as a service to my biggest fan,” she finished with a wink.

As for him? He finished with an altogether undignified noise, basking in the sound of her warm laughter and the sight of his release coating her neck.


	5. DimiGard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna say it's been awhile, but when I think about it it...... really hasn't?! I wrote a ton in September, but it was all Commissions....... I haven't gotten to just do silly little ficlets much. Well, I'm glad to be back at it, even if it might be brief with school happening :,)
> 
> At any rate. This has EMETOPHILIA. That is VOMIT. If you don't like that, don't read it. I am not responsible for your preferences or your reaction if you choose to read this anyway.

“El, please,” Dimitri said, watching her resurface, coughing, yet again. “Have we not tested this boundary to death already? You don’t need to go all the way down.”

Edelgard was red-faced and dewy-eyed - not quite  _ in _ tears, but so visibly frustrated between her continued failures and Dimitri’s attempts at comforting her that she was darn near close. She wiped her mouth, steadying her breaths, and rasped, “I just need to force my gag reflex into submission, that’s all. Any one of these days, you’ll see my efforts bear fruit.”

“Oh?” Dimitri replied. He was growing tired of this back-and-forth - especially with how Edelgard only grew more determined every time he asked, even  _ begged, _ her to stop. “So this is you improving, I take it?”

She glared from beneath her eyelashes, but in lieu of taking his bait she bent forward and licked a stripe up his already-shining erection. He shuddered - and this was the true pity of it all, because it felt so much  _ better _ when she was just doing this, instead of trying to force it all down her throat -

Like  _ that. _ She took him all down - no, perhaps about three-quarters of him - and  _ stayed _ there, fighting the instinctual convulsions of her shoulders. He could feel her throat at the head of his cock, rejecting its presence there, but even through her labored breaths and shuddering shoulders, she held herself firm.

Dimitri raised his eyebrows. Had she done it?

And suddenly, her eyes blew wide open.

When she came up this time, it was different. She pulled back and it was like he was watching a bottle come uncorked upside-down - fluid gushed out around his cock, spilling all over his groin and his hips, and his mouth had already dropped open in surprise when he realized she was vomiting.

The tears were definitely there now, her face a sloppy, wet portrait between the tears flooding down her face and the streaming of her nose and her own filth smeared down her chin, shinily coating her lips. She was wide-eyed and tremulous, eyes on him as she opened her mouth to speak - perhaps an apology - and dropped forward to vomit again.

This stream hit his stomach. It was hot, thankfully not too chunky, and - and barring the gut-wrenching empathy he felt remembering times that he’d lost his dinner like this, oddly pleasant. He thought to reach up and hold Edelgard’s hair out of her face only when she had, apparently, finished.

“Oh, El,” he breathed, reaching for her. Perhaps he should have been repulsed, instead.

No, there was something bewitching about her now. It may have been in how long it had been since he’d seen her cry, or how seldom she seemed small enough to suit her own bodily frame, but -

But watching her tremble, suspended shakily on all fours, tears streaming down her face in shock and shame, felt better than, perhaps, it should have. 

When he pulled, she followed. When he whispered, “It’s okay, El,” she inhaled high, half-tearful, and swallowed audibly. When he kissed her, she vomited again - just a little urp, enough to dribble down the side of his face and coat his tongue in acid.

Oh, this should have been disgusting.

“D-dima - no -” Edelgard said, and he tongued more of her sick off her lip, his own stomach beginning to churn at the taste, the smell, both threatening to overwhelm him. Every part of her that he touched - her cheek, her shoulder, her ribs - vibrated beneath his fingers, shocked and fearful in such a delightful, tactile way.

“It’s okay,” he said again, kissing the corner of her mouth, feeling more vomit smear over his lips, and reached for his dripping cock.


	6. Manugard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what else to say. I've been FEELING the f/f lately my dudes

Edelgard couldn’t have said whether the heat she felt on her face was from natural causes or the directional-light spell Manuela was using to check her eyes, but suffice to say that she was feeling  _ something. _ Who could blame her? Manuela’s breasts were hanging forward with her shoulders, straining visibly against the perfectly-shaped cups of her dress,  _ just _ threatening to tip out of their containers.

“Look up - don’t move your head,” Manuela instructed her, and Edelgard was distantly disappointed to obey. She could smell the alcohol on Manuela’s breath from this close; she might have been disgusted in any other scenario, but now it was another accent to contribute to the collective heat wreathing her. 

Manuela clicked her tongue, drawing Edelgard’s attention. “Dear, I know my assets can be distracting, but I do  _ need _ you to look up.”

“My apologies,” Edelgard said stiffly, instantly feeling cowed. She held herself firm for the remainder of the exam and breathed a sigh of relief when Manuela straightened. She caught another glimpse of Manuela’s displaced breast - it was bulging quite nicely over the limits of her cup - and pointedly averted her gaze, ever conscious of her position relative to them from where she sat.

“I don’t  _ believe _ you have a concussion -”

“Lovely,” Edelgard said, standing -

“But I’ll be first to admit that my judgment is - clouded,” Manuela cut her off, pursing her lips. “As much as I  _ was _ looking forward to having some personal time -” Edelgard knew precisely what that meant - “I would feel much better if you stayed the night.”

Edelgard slumped back into her seat, defeated - but only for the moment. She’d had plans of her own for the night, ones that Hubert would no doubt be upset with her for being tardy to, but it would doubtless be easier to wait for Manuela to exhaust herself than convince her to grant her freedom. “Very well,” she assented, then smiled. “But don’t let me stop you from enjoying yourself, Professor. We all know how hard you work - you deserve a night of self-indulgence.”

“Aren’t you sweet,” Manuela sighed, long-suffering. “But no, it would hardly be right for me to neglect a princess’s care.”

Of course, it was hardly an hour later before she was pitched over her desk, clutching a bottle of brown liquor and venting her sorrows to that same princess, her hair disheveled and her breasts resting heavily on the desktop. Edelgard, for her part, had little else with which to entertain herself than watching them strain against their prisons, idly guessing which swath of smooth white skin would give way to areola first, praying inwardly that Manuela didn’t pause to adjust her natural gifts or notice her staring.

“How is it any business of  _ his _ what my eating habits are,” she grumbled, reaching to unscrew the cap of her bottle before seeming to realize she’d long since disposed of it, “I could eat nothing but sweet buns and ass and it’d be none of his concern.”

She did make Edelgard laugh - it felt nearly foreign for her by now, but flames, it felt good. “I’ve - I’ve never heard of ass as a dietary supplement. Does it come recommended?”

Manuela raised her eyebrows and gazed steadily at her out of the corner of her eye as she tipped her bottle back again - it was enough to make Edelgard feel heated all over again. She swallowed with a gasp and rasped, “I don’t know that I should be recommending it, as your physician. But as your  _ elder -”  _ She paused, slammed her bottle down, and said, “Oh, I should - check your eyes again.”

“Oh, I don’t know whether that’s necessary,” Edelgard rushed to assure her, watching her stumble on her feet as she stood. “If you couldn’t get a conclusive result earlier, I doubt you’d fare any better now -”

“Look up, sweetheart,” Manuela said, and impaired as she was Edelgard was shocked that she could manage her usual authoritative nursing tone; she reached for Edelgard’s chin to tilt it up toward her, muttered her directional-light spell, and -

And slipped on one of her heels, sending her breasts-first into Edelgard’s face. Edelgard managed one great inhale before she was impacted by huge, heavy -  _ soft - _ skin, shuddering with the impact as she fell back onto the bed. Manuela yelped as they went, managing to stabilize herself on her hands before crushing Edelgard altogether, leaving Edelgard sprawled on her back and staring, wide-eyed, at two of the most perfect breasts she had ever seen.

“Oh,” Manuela grunted, moving over her - and Edelgard couldn’t help the comparisons as she glanced down between their bodies. Manuela’s hips were wider than hers, her breasts  _ clearly _ larger, the areolae dark and sprawling expansively over the breast. Edelgard swallowed and shifted her thighs, rubbing them absently together, quietly savoring the resonant heat trapped between them. “I can’t apologize enough - Just - let me get my bearings -”

Oh, Hubert was going to  _ fume _ at her.

It was a simple thing to tilt her chin up, spread her lips, and catch some of that heavenly, cushiony, silky silky  _ soft _ skin between them; she felt Manuela’s shudder in every place she could possibly register it. When she arched her neck and saw Manuela peering down at her, eyeshadow smeared across her temple, it was all she could do to separate from that perfection.

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to offer me a sample, after that shining recommendation,” Edelgard whispered.


	7. Dimigard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the off chance you're wondering how long I've been caught up in Real Life Bullshit, this was written in the beginning of October lmao. I set today aside to catch up on posting all my ficlets to this collection and then realized I've got barely any to share because I hardly wrote in November.......
> 
> Anyway! Originally written for Dimigard Week, I had a good time. I love those arts I see of Edelgard as this tiny, fluffy white cat...

Dimitri found, in time, that a sense of aloneness was hard to come by at Garreg Mach. He suspected that he had it worse than anyone with Dedue eternally shadowing him, but even in moments when he did manage to duck away from his retainer it was a difficult thing indeed to find himself truly alone. There was always someone poking their heads in or out, Annette humming to herself or Ingrid keeping people on task or Sylvain looking for trouble.

That said, he felt very lucky indeed to have some time to himself that day. The professor had taken a number of his classmates to perform training exercises elsewhere and told him to stay behind(“You’re getting a little too overleveled for my taste,” they’d said, to his immediate bafflement), and that suited him just fine. He took the opportunity to solemnly explore a quieter Garreg Mach, eventually stopping in the tea garden for some rest.

When he first heard the crunching of grass behind him, he sighed, resigning himself to a conversation with whoever his professor had left behind with him - but as he turned, he saw no one.

Only a small, fluffy white cat, paused with one paw raised, her head turned to consider him.

“Oh,” he breathed, relieved. “Don’t mind me.”

She put her paw down and straightened, continuing to survey him. It was odd, he thought, as he hadn’t been acquainted with many cats so comfortable with eye contact - perhaps this one was more accustomed to it from the volume of people that passed in and out of the monastery?

At length, she turned and began trotting toward him. He raised his eyebrows, but had no further objection himself - cats weren’t people, and a few pats would probably satisfy her better than a request to be left alone. When she arrived at his side, he reached for her, meaning to pet her - but she stopped him with a hiss.

He paused with his hand frozen in midair. “Pardon?”

He might have expected - oh, anything, next, some rubbing or other affectionate behavior that would undoubtedly leave long white fur all over his trousers and prompt some ludicrous innuendo about  _ pussy _ from Sylvain later. What he did not expect was for her to jump into one of the chairs next to him, sit there with her head just peeping over the table, and yowl.

At a loss for what else to say, he tried, “I’m afraid I don’t have any tea. Or… Any of the other fixings you’re expecting.”

She gave him a look that was a few too many things, for a cat - at once indignant and confused and frustrated - and turned away, kneading thoughtfully at the chair’s cushion. He watched her, then chuckled, because he realized this was absurd.

“It’s as if I’m really having a conversation with you.”

“Mao!” she countered, bringing herself to all four feet. She meowed again, then again, staring into his eyes the entire time with a kind of desperation he didn’t quite understand. He nodded along, frowning, and that seemed to satisfy her, oddly enough; she paused, kneaded the cushion again, and jumped onto the table.

“Hardly proper teatime behavior,” he teased, and he could swear she glared at him. Not for long, naturally - in the next moment she was butting her little head up against his, rubbing against him the same way he’d expected her to earlier. “So you  _ would _ like a pet, then,” he chuckled, reaching for her again - but she danced away from his fingers, glancing suspiciously between them and him.

She mewed, her ears swiveling, and he nodded. “Then I’ll… let you pet yourself, I suppose,” he said, putting his hand down. She approached again, a little more cautious this time, and tilted her head into a softer sort of affront, sliding it along his cheek. She brought it back, brushing her head against his lips, and he hummed into her fur.

“Is this what you want?” he offered, then kissed her forehead; she started purring, chirped a delighted little mew, and he did it again. “You’re so affectionate,” he said, half-muffled, but no less amused. “I don’t suppose you’ve grown to fancy me from afar?”

That purr grew deeper in pitch until it was obviously a growl.

“Oh, I - I’m sorry.”

She butted her head against his chin again, and he kissed her forehead again. She looked - very deliberately, he was certain now - down at her feet, seeming dissatisfied. Then she tilted her head back, blinked, and stretched forward to  _ lick _ his lips.

It was startling enough, just feeling her rough little tongue against his mouth, but when a flash of light engulfed her - well, suffice to say that Dimitri was taken aback. His eyes adjusted to reveal -

Edelgard, scrambling to get off the table, flushed all the way up to her ears.

“El?!” he yelped, nearly falling out of his chair in his surprise.

“You were alone,” she said, harried and high-pitched, dusting herself off as if there were anything at all marring her clothes, “And I was too embarrassed to let anyone else see. I have  _ not _ ‘grown to fancy you from afar’, as you so eloquently put it.”

She stalked away, and he put a hand to his lips, realizing she had  _ kissed _ him.

Well, he couldn’t rightly have said he  _ didn’t _ wish for his first to be with her - even if the circumstances were a little off.


	8. Dimigard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More stuff from Dimigard week! God, I love a female alpha.

Edelgard had had a… comfort object. Following her procedure.

She didn’t recall where she’d gotten it, or whose scent it was that lingered there. She just found it in her room, sitting next to the dagger she’d been given under similarly mysterious circumstances, smelling like something - some _ one - _ she didn’t recognize. She would press the bedraggled teddy bear into her face when the pressures of newly having been made the crown princess began to wear on her.

She hadn’t brought it to Garreg Mach - it held too much sentimental value, after having buried her face in it so many times, after drawing so much comfort from it. It no longer smelled like that mysterious omega now, but she knew now that it  _ had _ belonged to an omega - one that keenly smelled of chamomile tea.

She could never have forgotten that scent. It had comforted her on nights when the images of her tortured siblings seemed plastered to the backs of her eyelids, so -

So  _ why _ was Dimitri wafting that scent like he’d been spontaneously transformed into a walking tea shop? Edelgard swallowed around the lump in her throat and tried to focus - she wasn’t going to learn so much as a step if she carried on focusing on her partner’s scent like this.

“Excellent, Claude!” Manuela chirped, pausing to curtsy as they parted. “You’ve really gotten the hang of this. Your efforts are to be praised, young man - as is your charm.”

Claude folded his hands behind his head and smiled easily. “Well, I’d better put on a good show if the prince and princess are watching. Not only are they better than me -”

“Nonsense -” Dimitri attempted.

“But with me being a beta, either of them could make great marriage candidates,” Claude finished, dropping a wink in Edelgard’s direction. “What do you think, princess? Am I worth merging our countries for?”

Perhaps she was just that thrown by Dimitri’s scent, but she found she didn’t have an answer. Dimitri, in turn, was a little flushed - and it of course brought his scent out even sharper, as if he were swirling a warm cup of tea directly under her nose. She swallowed; it couldn’t be exactly the same scent. It couldn’t be.

It was nonetheless a conditioned response, however, and even as Manuela gestured for them to demonstrate their own dance, every step felt sluggish and slow. She kept her gaze averted, willed her cock to stay in its sheath -

“I would think you’d be critiquing my moves by now, El,” Dimitri laughed. She jerked to attention, thrown - by the nickname, certainly, but also by the fact that he’d spoken at all. “Are you out of practice? Normally you’d be criticizing me for staring at my feet, not doing precisely that.”

Edelgard caught his eye, finding at once that she couldn’t look away; she hadn’t paused to process his softer tendencies since arriving at Garreg Mach, but now they assaulted her as cruelly as a blow from any alpha. He was so  _ lovely _ in that uniquely omegan way, sharp eyes offset by a kind brow, pretty blue that -  _ resonated - _

She licked her lips without knowing exactly why. She was distantly aware of Claude’s voice from the sidelines, something about... cutting it close.

And Dimitri’s pupils were blown so wide, she could have fallen right in.

When she surged forward, Dimitri’s cry wasn’t the first, but it was the sweetest. Edelgard’s tongue slid wetly over skin, so detached from her mind by now that she didn’t know  _ where _ she was licking - just that she needed it, needed more. She rutted forward, knowing her cock would be emerging, and Dimitri held firm against her attack, standing straight despite her scrambling effort to climb him, find that gland emitting that perfect, perfect scent -

He wasn’t fighting her, she realized. He was quivering, but not from fear; he was too strong to allow any alpha to overpower him, and they both knew that. When he grabbed at her thighs, it was to stabilize her. When she rutted into him, rumbling at the friction right where she needed it, he ground back, whining high in his throat.

She found his gland, drew three fast, shuddering breaths of that bitterly nostalgic scent, and opened her jaws wide.

_ “Alright, _ that’s enough of that,” Claude cut in. Edelgard snarled at him, but he wasn’t to be dissuaded - he was muscling his way between the pair to the best of his ability, and Edelgard realized, with a muted sort of panic, that Dimitri’s scent was fading, that  _ her omega’s _ scent was fading -

Later, she would be humiliated to recall her own voice screeching “Mine,  _ mine”  _ as Claude at last started dragging her away, but she would be no less enamored of - and perplexed by - a flushed, half-tearful Dimitri collapsing to his knees as she was pulled away.

His heat was here, Claude said. Pretty stupid to come out for practice with you around.

Maybe so. But as clarity encroached on her later, her spent cock in hand, sweat cooling on her forehead, perhaps the act had not been so thoughtless as Claude presumed.


	9. Hildagard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the first thing I wrote after almost a month without writing anything at all, and it was really a relief to get back into it this way! I love boobs and I love Edelgard, so it was a natural thing to do. Honestly what I didn't expect my little hiatus to do was make me even more in love with Edelgard, what a conundrum....

Nobody messed with Edelgard von Hresvelg.

Hilda had  _ one _ high-achieving, endlessly intimidating elder brother, but Edelgard had, like, ten. (Less than that, but it was a big number. Hilda remembered sleeping over in third grade and her dad getting all mad and confused at how many boys were around when he picked her up.) Hilda was pretty and Claude was smart, but Edelgard was both. Her fashion was so  _ dated _ but so  _ fitting, _ her voice was commanding even when whisper-quiet, and as she stepped up to the podium to accept the position of class president, she didn’t so much as bat an eye.

Nobody messed with Edelgard von Hresvelg. Maybe that was why nobody had pointed out that one of her lumpy, fake boobs was migrating down her ribcage.

It took a moment for Hilda to register what she was looking at, but she couldn’t help but laugh when she realized. Claude gave her a faintly annoyed look from the stage - sour that he’d lost the election, no doubt - but she just dropped a wink, a faint promise to tell him later.

Edelgard was shifting uncomfortably, which made sense. Her tissue paper tit was nearly at her hip now. Was this her first time stuffing? How embarrassing for her, if it just fell out on the floor in front of everybody, leaving her with one stupid pointy boob and one barely there.

Nobody messed with Edelgard von Hresvelg, but Hilda gnawed on her lower lip, staring at the obvious lump at Edelgard’s side, wondering faintly why it felt like blood was rushing to her head. 

Assembly was dismissed, and fate conspired to place Hilda evacuating the auditorium directly behind Edelgard. She was walking stiffly, probably trying not to disturb the wad of tissue at her hip enough to dislodge it, and something came over her.

“Edie!” Hilda called, trotting up to her, ignoring the faint look of bewilderment on Edelgard’s face. They hadn’t spoken in years, easy. No reason for them to - Edelgard was in all the AP classes, and Hilda wasn’t in any.

Her guard was down, though, and Hilda took advantage to pull her sweater up off her hip and grab the devious tissues from their telltale position. She held them up and squeezed, cocking her head, and said, “Lemme help you with these,” savoring the half-formed words stuttering out of Edelgard’s mouth, the wide-eyed, strung-out stare.

And she reached, pulled Edelgard’s shirt out from her chest, and delicately tucked the tissues back where they were intended to go, pausing to give either “breast” a quick squeeze before stepping back and letting go. Edelgard’s expression was priceless - half like she’d been caught cheating on a test, half like she was about to cry.

A tiny, ingenious idea popped into Hilda’s head as Edelgard cast wide-eyed, weepy glances between Hilda and the people walking past them, disbelieving, begging for recognition of what had just happened. She coyly smiled, reached forward, and when Edelgard jerked away, she followed, stabilizing one shoulder with a bruising hand and reaching into her shirt faster than she could stop her.

“Oh, this  _ is _ clever! I see it now,” Hilda cooed, bringing the tissues to Edelgard’s eyes. “Just in case you lost, huh? You’ve always been so smart.”

She dipped forward as she left her, squeezing her arms in just the right way - and yes, Edelgard’s eyes followed her cleavage, wanting and lost and hurt.

Hilda turned away at last, prickling all over, hot under her skirt.

She would have to mess with Edelgard a lot more often.


	10. Edelthea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even more Edelgard, because I have a disease that cannot be cured. This one deserves a shoutout to [Lily](https://twitter.com/spiderlilywrite) for being the coolest.

“Dorothea… I’m driving,” Edelgard murmured, keeping her eyes trained ahead of her, her hands at perfect ten-and-two as the light remained resolutely red.

“Of course! All I meant to propose was a little stoplight fun,” Dorothea purred, but Edelgard didn’t bite. She shook her head faintly, still carefully ignoring her. Dorothea sighed, pulling her hand away from Edelgard’s thigh and sitting back in her seat, sparing a glance into the rearview mirror. The boys were out of sight in traffic and Petra and Bernadetta were both napping, peaceful for now.

“I’m going to get awfully bored if  _ nobody’s _ willing to have a little fun with me.”

“Then by all means, nap alongside everyone else and have fun while Petra drives later,” Edelgard said, and Dorothea didn’t miss the wisp of breathiness to her tone; the thought alone had clearly, at least, done  _ something _ for Edelgard. A smile tugged at her lips - as always, Edelgard was entirely less unflappable than she liked to pretend.

Dorothea sighed. “I’m afraid it’s too late, Edie,” she said, steadying herself as the light changed at last and Edelgard drove forward, turning to mount the freeway. “I’m all worked up now - I’ll just have to work out all this tension before I combust!”

Edelgard swallowed audibly, and Dorothea smirked. How  _ crazy _ could she drive her, she wondered, before the next rest stop on their way? They were still just leaving city limits, surely the next one was a fair ways away. That in mind…

She pulled at her skirt, hiked one leg up and planted her heel on the edge of her seat. She teased along her slit over top of her panties, breathing luxuriously outward as she watched idly out the window. Her clit twitched beneath her fingertip each time another car passed on the freeway, and all of it - Edelgard’s tense attention, the subtle but  _ public _ nature of it - got her very wet, very fast.

She circled one finger carelessly around her clit, mindfully keeping her eyes trained away from Edelgard. This was a show, yes, but it was all the more fun if she let Edelgard come to her, demand  _ her  _ attention; she closed her eyes and pictured everything that could happen - Petra or Bernie could awaken, and how would they feel? Would they join her, or would they just chide her for doing this so publicly?

She cracked her eyes open and glanced into the side mirror, huffing with amusement when she saw the boys’ car approaching - probably just because Caspar wanted to say hi, but all the better for her. She straightened as they drew up beside the girls’ car. She smiled and watched Caspar and Ferdie wave, Hubert sparing them a passing glance from the drivers’ seat. Edelgard waved too, in the periphery of her vision, and a thought occurred to her.

She didn’t think - she just pulled her shirt up and over her breasts and pressed them to the window.

“Dorothea!” Edelgard gasped, and Dorothea laughed as she saw the boys’ car accelerate forward, accentuated by Hubert’s flushed, startled face quickly turning back to the road, Caspar turning in his seat to address what was surely a sleeping Linhardt next to him.  _ Have fun, boys, _ Dorothea thought, sinking back into her seat, her fingers back on her clit and her other hand grasping firmly at her bare breast.

“You - Dorothea, please, a little subtlety,” Edelgard said in a strained voice, correcting her course and sending her another glance. “S-someone could see you.”

“Someone  _ did _ see me,” Dorothea said contentedly. “In fact, I’d guess they enjoyed it.”

If Edelgard had anything to say to that, it was quickly choked off when Dorothea reached under her skirt to wiggle her panties down. Enough fooling - she’d have Edie in her arms within minutes, or she’d climb into the back to mess around with Petra.

She was so wet, her fingers sunk in with so little coaxing - she breathed out, a faint gasp eking its way out of her. She curled them inward, moaning a little higher -

Edelgard jerkily pulled over to the side of the road, squeaking, “P-Petra, switch -” as Petra, groaning, righted herself, making an inquisitive and tired sound as Edelgard all but launched herself over the glove holder with a visible tent in her shorts.

“It was only a matter of time,” Dorothea purred contentedly, patting Edelgard’s cheek with sticky hands.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/glittergluwu) | [My CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.qa/GlitterGlue)


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